Hot Chocolate
by spinzgirl
Summary: Allura is feeling the chill, and it will take more than a steamy beverage to warm her up! High School AU (Written for 2019 Kallura Secret Santa)


Allura stared at the clock on the wall, willing the bell to sound. Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity at this point. She heard the shuffle of her students finishing up their work, many already tucking binders into their already overfilled backpacks. Background chatter and the occasional scraping of chair legs across worn tile floors accentuated the unrest amongst her pupils.

Normally she'd be irked by their rush to leave her classroom, but today was an exception. The heating system was being worked on and the last hour left her fingers numb from the cold. She could only imagine how tough it was for the kids who couldn't wear gloves while holding pencils. A few had begged her to let them just read instead, but then essays wouldn't be complete before the holiday break.

_Maybe that would have been better, I hate grading papers on Christmas anyway. _

Too late now, she thought. Now her main concern was getting warm before the second half of the day. She opened her bottom left desk drawer as slowly as possible, the cheap metal groaning obnoxiously as she inched it out. Food was not allowed in the classrooms and the last thing she needed was to be spotted with a thermos of hot cocoa. Kids are not one to let hypocrisy go after all.

Distracted by her covert mission she'd failed to realize the hour had come. The incessant clanging of the period bell jolted her, causing her knee to hit the pointed corner of the drawer. The yelp she let out stopped her students in their tracks, including the ones who were already halfway out of the door. At that moment all eyes were on her, including a pair she did not recognize.

A young man walking through the hallway must have heard the commotion as well. She couldn't see most of his face due to the dark hoodie pulled over his head, but his striking violet eyes lingered on her even after the remaining students resumed their exodus from the class. Allura felt her cheeks burn as she realized she was staring back. For all she knew he was a student and she was acting entirely inappropriate at the moment.

Quickly she distracted herself with the thermos she'd been trying so hard to hide. Spinning open the top she awkwardly placed the opening against her lips, throwing her head back as she went to take a giant gulp of….air?

Of course it was empty. She'd finished it off between earlier classes after all. Why had she forgotten that? At least she had a packet of Swiss Miss left in the teacher's lounge. Allura wasted no time in gathering up her purse and briefcase, rushing out into the corridor as a wave of students appeared from seemingly nowhere. The riptide of bodies carried her away from her destination; she pushed towards the lockers to break free of its grasp.

Just as she was about to emerge she felt another foot catch her heel, peeling the shoe off as she fell forward. Her belongings clattered to the floor as she extended her arms to break her fall. Every muscle in her body tensed as she braced for an impact that would never come.

Instead a warm, muscular arm wrapped around her waist, quickly righting her before disengaging. Allura quickly moved to slick down her black knee-length pencil skirt that had slid up her thighs, afraid to look up to see who might have noticed. Once she'd regained her composure, her belongings, and her scuffed black patent heel, she turned to thank the person who had rescued her.

To her dismay he hadn't bothered to stick around. Glances in either direction just afforded her the view of zombified faces.

Soon another bell rang, this one to indicate the start of the next schedule block. Thankfully this was her planning period, and any prepping that had to be done could wait until she no longer felt like a popsicle. Soon she was in the teacher's lounge: her mug in her left hand, the tin holding her precious hot chocolate her right.

Well, the tin that _had_ been holding it. The second she lifted it from the cupboard she knew it was empty. A quick glance inside confirmed this.

"Oh, the new guy drank it," came a voice from the couch in the corner of the room.

Allura sighed. She knew the voice and immediately regretted leaving the solitude of her classroom. Looking discreetly from the corner of her eye she spotted Lance McClain sitting with physics teacher Hunk Garrett, and genius math teacher Pidge Holt. Although she got along well with the latter two, Mr. McClain was another story.

Lance was a substitute teacher. He was well liked by the students, mostly because he never required them to do much work in his class. Most recently he'd been covering the physical education department after Coach Shirogane lost his arm in a motorcycle accident. Lance had applied for the permanent position, but to no one's surprise it was given to someone else.

Allura guessed that by his accusation he was referring to the new coach. Because football was a huge part of school fundraising efforts the coaching staff got away with pretty much anything. Aside from Coach Shiro, as the kids lovingly called him, most of the men were middle-aged has beens who were living vicariously through their team. It wouldn't surprise her that one of them had helped himself to her food.

"You'll probably find him in the gym," Lance added helpfully, "since he's not social enough to hang out with the rest of us."

On any other day Allura would have ignored his goading and moved on. This was not that day, however. She was cold and had been looking forward to this for too long. Slamming the mug and canister down on the counter she stormed out of the lounge. The new guy may have been a fellow teacher, but she was about to give him a lesson in personal property.

Still, somehow in her anger she didn't miss Mr. Garret's hushed comment as she exited the room.

_Didn't you tell him it was for everyone?_

The comment temporarily gave her pause, but soon she recalled all of the trouble past coaches had caused her. Older men with beer bellies and a sense of entitlement often made gross attempts to win her attention. Their overuse of cologne paired with white shorts and matching tube socks did nothing to help their cause, either.

No, today she'd be the one making _them_ regret working at Altea High.

When she reached the gym it was obvious the coach wasn't there. The only light reflecting on the hardwood floors came from the windows high above the bleachers. Well, that and the glow leaking from the door in the far corner of the gymnasium.

Not that she spent much time around sporting arenas, but Allura was certain that this was where the office was. She'd gone in there once to discuss the former quarterback's dropping Honors English grade with the coaching staff. Even the memory of the stench of male armpit sweat wasn't going to stop her at this point.

Jaw set and fists clenched, Allura marched double-time to the doorway. For the briefest moment she thought to knock before entering. No, she needed to catch him off guard. Any attempt at niceties might lead him to think he could trounce all over her.

One turn-of-the-knob and push-of-the-shoulder later and Allura found herself regretting her impulsivity.

She'd entered the boys' locker room. Thankfully it was empty since there were no classes at the moment. Prematurely she closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief before slumping against the door frame. Unfortunately doing so caused her to miss the figure moving swiftly towards her from the showers.

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

Startled, Allura jumped at the sound of the voice. She quickly turned toward the direction of the speaker, the motion causing her foot to slip on the wet floor. For the second time in the last hour she found herself hurtling toward the ground. And, for the second time she found herself protected by a very strong arm.

An arm that, in this instance, pulled her into a very muscular, _very_ bare chest.

Allura wasn't sure if it was the embarrassment or something else, but she was certain her cheek must have burned the skin it was pressed against. It was likely the reason her savior suddenly pushed her away, mumbling incoherent words before backing up a few paces. The only thing she could make out was "I'm sorry" from the rush of sounds and gestures.

Composing herself she managed to squeak out a thanks before attempting to flee the scene. As she made her way to the gymnasium a hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her briefly.

"What did you need, Ms. Allura?"

_Great, it's a student. Again._

Shaking her head she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Tell the coach he owes me a hot chocolate. He took my last one."

Pulling at the hand holding on to her, she felt the grip slack enough to make her escape. What didn't escape her notice, however, was the response.

"That bastard Lance said it was okay" he whispered as her hands slipped through his fingers.

It was the touch that made her shudder. The tips of his fingers sliding over the back of her hand, as if forging a trail to later be explored. As soon as the door shut behind her, she pressed her hand to her lips. Warm musk wafted up from the still tingling sensation that threatened to send her back into the locker room, this time demanding more than a steamy drink.

The sound of voices denied her the chance. She dashed out the side entrance into the cold December air, cursing her lack of foresight. In her mind she could visualize her heavy coat taunting her from the hook where she left it in the classroom, which was now a long slog from her current location.

The one thing that warmed her was the memory of his touch. His defense made it clear that he was, in fact, the coach in question. What wasn't clear, exactly, was what he looked like.

In the awkwardness of the moment she'd not really looked him in the face. Not directly, at least. What she did know was that he was taller, fairer skinned, and darker haired than she.

That, and he had the body of a god with the voice of an angel.

The next day Allura was exhausted. Her mind had kept her awake most of the night, playing the scene over and over again. Her fingers instinctively flexed each time she remembered the way his hand felt as it caressed her own.

It didn't help that the school was even colder than the day before. The Principal didn't feel the need to cancel school, however, so everyone was miserable as they suffered through another day without heat. Even the ever-cheerful Vice Principal Coran seemed less chipper than usual, barely nodding a greeting as he blew warm air into his palms.

Immediately after reaching the classroom Allura reached into her satchel for her handy thermos. To her dismay it was missing. A quick recap of her sleepy haze-filled morning reminded her that it was, in fact, still sitting on the kitchen counter.

Cursing under her breath she decided to swing by the student run cafe for a cup of coffee. Typically she couldn't bring herself to drink the stuff but today she'd make the rare exception. Everyone else had the same idea apparently, the line moving slowly as students and teachers pondered the menu options.

There were only two ahead of her when a hand tugged at her sleeve. Looking to her left, she spotted a familiar pair of violet eyes peering from beneath the same hoodie as before. Annoyed she shook her head, assuming the person was looking to cut in line in order to beat the bell.

No was not the right answer.

This time a hand reached out for her own, pulling her from the line firmly yet gently. Instantly she recognized the touch. Her heart beat faster as she finally had a chance to see the face of the man who had haunted her dreams.

He was handsome, his features hard but his eyes soft. His lips tweaked on one side as if he was privy to a joke she'd missed out on. His stature was that of an Olympian: shoulders squared, muscles rounded, jaw angled. Allura imagined he left broken hearts wherever he ventured.

Unable to speak, Allura simply stared at him as he held forward a lidded cup as if it were peace offering. At first she was confused, her head tilted slightly as she pieced together the scene before her. Still she took the cup, the warmth from the contents somehow less inviting than his touch.

"Hi, I'm Keith," he said as he nodded towards the drink. "I believe I owe you a hot chocolate, correct?"

Allura nodded, finally regaining her ability to form words. "Yes, yes you did," she agreed before turning to walk away. Stopping in her tracks she turned back to him, a wicked smile adorning her face. "My lunch is in the fridge by the way. You can owe me a meal, too, if you like."

With that she continued on her way to class. She hadn't gone two steps further before he caught her, grabbing her upper arm as his mouth pressed against her ear. "If we want to talk about owing each other things," he reminded her in a deep, hushed voice, "you did see me half naked yesterday."

When the lunch bell rang, Allura was the first to the teacher's lounge. Opening the fridge with nerves on edge she spotted a letter where her lunch had been, her name inscribed on the envelope. The air felt electrified around her when she opened it to read the contents.

_Thanks for the offer, lunch was delicious. I'll pay you back Saturday night. My place. Hope you like meatloaf_

_Keith_

_P.S. Bring hot chocolate ;)_


End file.
